


Savage Rifts

by profundum



Category: savage worlds - Fandom
Genre: Other, Role-Playing Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profundum/pseuds/profundum
Summary: The World changed. Civilization fell, giving way to streams of energy criss-crossing the globe, and at key points, tearing holes in the universe. From the ashes of civilization came new ones, from the Coalition States of North America, to the Federation of Magic, to the Vampire Kingdoms of Mexico, to the New German Republic, people and creatures have set to rebuilding the once great splendor of Earth. Based on the Tomorrow Legion Guides and Savage Worlds style, this work focuses on a ban of diverse heroes (or at least not villains!) work to slow the growth of the two largest entities in North America by joining the Tomorrow Legion, and trying to survive the destructive aftermath of the Siege of Tolkeen.





	

As we begin, I would like to lay out the style of the work. The story is in a first person perspective, although the person changes every "Chunk". A "Chunk" is a part of a chapter, which works as part of a story. To begin, there is a short chapter on the attack at Crows Head. It is recommended that you have some knowledge of the Savage Worlds Rifts, or at least the Palladium version from the 90's. While it should be pretty quick to catch on, some things like D-Bees and other terms may be lost on some. The writing is, unfortunately, concise, and so at a later date, I may rewrite this whole chapter into something more than a taste of my writing. I sincerely hope you enjoy the ride. -profundum. 

Frank

 

"Well everyone, we have wonderful news! Not for you, for the Legion! So, Get In Line Maggots!" The bellowing came from just behind me, shooting me into attention. My arms flew out and I felt gentle hands guide me to the line mentioned violently earlier. Everything was brighter, but that's all I could tell. I can still remember the beauty of the world before I was blinded. It was only a year ago, and I loved the world. So many have normalized, taken world beauty for granted. I didn't, and yet I had the sights of the world stolen from me. Me! A paragon of justice, it's my code of honor, and My sight was snatched from me by that Coalition brute. I could only tell if the area was incredibly bright or incredibly dark, and it currently was on the side of bright. Like the sun I still wish to see crest the horizon...

"It's time to kill things and you all are particularly good at that! Well, that and property damage!" The bellowing voice was exhausting to just listen to. The sound was female, in a way. Deeper than any human female, but these days humans are almost minorities outside the CS. With D-Bees able to shrug off a .50 cal, it's no wonder humans like to stick together. It's a shame we tend to do so in the worst way possible, in the form of the Coalition. As if everything wasn't scary enough, the coalition pushed fear-mongering to a whole new level. If you weren't normal, if you were strong, if you were smart then the Coalition didn't want you. The Coalition wanted sheep and instilled its hate into its subjects. Instead of accepting the new way of life, they tried to hold on to the old ways and nearly broke its own writs trying to resist the whiplash. The calendar changed it all, it showed the power the Coalition had, the power to define time with their numbers. Even then, there was the True Federation of Magic, more accepting of power and race, but demanded complete submission, swearing away your freedom. They didn't like you otherwise. You overstayed your welcome quickly if your total allegiance didn't come with you.

"It's time to kill some 'lition fuckers today crybabies! Refugees from the destruction of Tolkeen made a hovel for themselves called Crow's Head, and word has it that Coalition is on its way, their march should take about two days, enough time for you all to req an ATV and motor your pansy asses over there! You can set up in Crow's Head or you can meet the Dead Boys en rout! The ATV is waiting just half a klik from the gates! You all will meet a pilot there, she has her own ride! So, pack your death makers and get going! If you don't return, talk to the Devil about getting our own little section for the Legion in his crib! Good luck! Don't die pointlessly!" The bellowing never stopped. It's a wonder how her voice holds out for that long that loudly. "Well, who needs gear, let's get going, Christ how slow are you people, there's killing to do, why wait, come on!" Aerendyl could probably figure out a way to turn one-word answers into run-ons. Not that grammar really counts for much anymore. It's lucky if you can read, eyes or no eyes. "Shut up Pinky!" The voice was deep, with a softness of gravel. The mellifluous sound of Tarak's voice was nearly painful in cramped quarters, but out in the courtyard, it was manageable. His range of voice happened to be from the sounds of Satan sawing a went to a firehose of gravel washing out your inner ear. "Awww you love me in your heart!" Aerendyl's taunt was placed at a heart Tarak did not possess. "Pinky, you overestimate my care for you. You miss one shot and I might just bury you. Pre or post mortem. I'm not picky." A voice cut in just before Aerendyl had a chance to retort, "I wouldn't let you in afraid. Your banter is warming, but death threats are not appropriate or necessary, so I ask you refrain from using them." Eric, the aspiring mollifier. Just a teenager and yet he believed he can help the world see more light. One has to have faith in this world, but there is over-optimism. At times, grim outlooks have kept people alive, so long as they believe when alone. Still, Eric was the only person I know who can look Tarak in the face and keep his resolve. "And what are you gonna do about it, preacher man?!" Tarak was always itching for combat, even with his allies. If it wasn't for his use in large combat we might not even keep him around. "Tarak, hold back your combat until cleansing sin from the Earth, not for disrupting this group. We have a job, so we do a job. That is the deal. Get your things, we head for the ATV and pilot in 15." Eric was somehow unflappable when Tarak was trying to push buttons. I may have just stabbed him, even as a blind man that behemoth is an easy target. I'll leave breaking my vows for a later time. 

The walk was easy and short. At least for me, I suppose, what with having virtually nothing to carry with me. We weren't quite inconspicuous, eight of us armed with combat in mind and it showed. Just over half a kilometer away there was a garage tucked away in the foliage. Sol was guiding me along the trail, telling me what we saw with the soft voice he uses. A psionic with a heart for life, he is always trying to protect the party. He also happens to volunteer to help me walk when we're galavanting out from Castle Refuge. 

"Break in groups of two, follow around the garage, flanking positions. Frank and Sol enter, things get hairy and we come through the windows and back door for fire support. Keep low and quiet." Jason, ex-military, unbridled psychic power, when he remembers. So often he forgets his power and charges in with his guns and blades instead of his mind. It frustrates Tarak to no end. Four groups now, one on each side of the building if done right. "Now, forward about fifty feet to reach the door, twenty out of the forest. I'll stop you before the door, we enter together. Door cracks, I peek in, and if there's a firing squad eating for us I close the door and we leave quietly with the rest of the team. Three… two… one." Sol had a voice that never cracked or broke, perfect for a guide. I felt the ground become clearer in just over twenty feet, but the area didn't get significantly lighter. Probably a canopy over us, branches reaching like lovers from their trunks. Thirty feet or so later I felt a hand on my chest, the door should be right in front of us. The minute click of a door handle followed by not a second of observation before the door was firmly shut and I felt a hand over my mouth and around my waist as he fell holding me. The harsh whisper in my ear came as nearly a hiss, "Glitter Boy." "If the legion was going to kill us, there would be a firing squad, not a Glitter Boy. They even said that there would be a pilot, perhaps her resume had a typo." I was barely able to move my jaw for the first few syllables before Sol's hand loosened enough for me to actually speak. "I say we introduce ourselves, I am a Knight, and Glitter pilots tend to be honorable gentlemen. I will speak to him and see if this can be sorted out. If it can't, well we'll be able to tell pretty quickly." Sol's hold reluctantly loosened, then he rose and helped me up. "If this goes poorly, you better not be too mangled for Fi and me to patch up." With that remark, Sol opened the door and guided me as I strode in. Bold for a blind man to stride, but I was hoping my guide would kick a wrench or two out of the way before I tripped and ruined the effect. 

"I am Franklin Bartelemi Neil Botolof, Knight of the Seventh Bastion, a veteran of Tolkeen, Savior of Torun! I represent Lord Coake and his hold in the Tomorrow Legion! I ask, who are you and why do you stand before me!?" I could sense the tension in the air, as the man in front of me must have been staring in a sense of confused awe and Sol holding the air of question. "Frank, the pilot-" Sol began but I finished. "The Man before us my friend should know better than to draw arms on a Knight and is certainly alive and before us, that much I can here. So, gentlemen, I know why one of you stands here, why does the other?" "Well, I'll ask you use the correct pronoun for your pilot before answering that, Frank." The voice was unquestionably cool, casual, and female.


End file.
